{This and the next couple entries are excerpts from my journal, written during the return of my 6 month curse. Approximately every 6 months I hurt myself in some sort of spectacular fashion, usually necessitating a hospital visit. This time, though, the injury was a bit more spectacular than usual.}
This weekend has been bad. Real bad. I feel horrible. My lips are dry and cracked and I’m dizzy and light headed. Periodically I start shaking so hard I feel like I’m coming apart and I throw up anything I try to consume.
But writing seems to help. It anchors the mind to a single, linear train of thought, keeps me from wandering the repetitive loops that I’ve been falling into. Simple things start them off, the first lyric of a song or the sight of my blinds closing, but then my brain latches on and replays them over and over until a feeling akin to being stuck in traffic starts to burn up my brain.
So I’m here. Writing. This thing snuck up on me unexpectedly. Thursday I took off, thinking I just felt crappy because I had stayed up most of the night and, after sleeping the day away, I felt ready to go back to work on Friday.
But towards the end of theday on Friday I crashed. Hard. I could barely stand upright as I waited for the bus that would take me home . Instead I sat on the floor, my flushed face resting against the cool tile wall of the University Street Station as I tried to get my racing heart beat under control.
The next morning the nausea started. It seems to be vaguely time based, I can sometimes eat and drink around noon but it all comes back up about 4 hours later. In the morning and night I have no choice: anything I eat or drink refuses to stay down. I think I have a fever, so I’ve started taking ibuprofen and Tylenol in a 3 hour regimen.
It’s Sunday now, and everyone’s been really sweet to me. Tom skipped his City Heroes commitments to bring me chicken soup and sprite. Elena made a special visit to the drugstore to get me flu meds. My mom and dad have put up with multiple calls from me asking about proper treatments and advice.
Mom says I should go to the doctor tomorrow if I don’t feel better. I don’t want to… my healthcare isn’t all that great. But I haven’t been able to eat in two days. Luckily City Heroes is off tomorrow, so if I absolutely have to go Regina can take me in.
I hope I feel better.